As Kurt Vonnegut wrote in his poem “Joe Heller”:
True story, Word of Honor:
Joseph Heller, an important and funny writer
now dead,
and I were at a party given by a billionaire
on Shelter Island.
I said, “Joe, how does it make you feel
to know that our host only yesterday
may have made more money
than your novel ‘Catch-22’
has earned in its entire history?”
And Joe said, “I’ve got something he can never have.”
And I said, “What on earth could that be, Joe?”
And Joe said, “The knowledge that I’ve got enough.”
Not bad! Rest in peace!
Oh boo fucking hoo. You could have taken your daddy’s stolen blood money and done a whole lot of good on the world. Instead you made yourself a fat rich old hated piece of shit who creeps about trying to sell his jizz to his mates. Money can’t buy you a sense of fucking shame.
“I shat in the pool and now the pool is all full of my shit and everyone else at the pool party hates me waaaaa!”